


baby can i look good for you

by alexanger



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Lingerie, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 10:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10762002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanger/pseuds/alexanger
Summary: alex dresses up for john.[giveaway prize]





	baby can i look good for you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trash_of_many_fandoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_of_many_fandoms/gifts).



John’s phone buzzes as he sits at his desk, idly contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to pretend to be working. He takes a moment to glance at the screen, and at first the text doesn’t process, so he glances again and registers, _look in your lunch bag,_ from Alex.

    It’s probably something adorable - Alex likes to leave him notes or sneak sweets into his bag, but usually he just waits for John to find it. “It ruins the surprise if I tell you,” he explained once. So why the reminder? Especially now, at 11 AM, when he doesn’t eat lunch until at least one o’clock?

    John gets up from his desk to go paw through his messenger bag. He digs out his lunch bag and unrolls the top to see -

    That can’t be right.

    He takes a moment, then looks in again, and nothing has changed. There’s a scrap of lace in there and it can’t be what he thinks it is, but what else could Alex have put in there? There’s no other logical answer.

    He pulls it out and of course, of _course,_ it’s panties. Of _course_ it is.

    There’s another buzz from his phone. He lunges for it, panties balled in one fist.

    This text reads, _more later. enjoy that~_

And he knows that he can’t jerk off under the desk - his office doesn’t have a lock on the door - but he can’t help it. John sits back down at his desk, unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly, and pulls his cock out. He’s already so hard it almost hurts. The panties, silk and lace, are smooth against his cock as he jacks the foreskin back and forth over the head, rapid and desperate. There isn’t the luxury of time to savour this; he just needs to come before he explodes.

    John shudders and gasps as he comes into the panties. He imagines stuffing them into Alexander’s mouth, soiled like this, imagines hearing Alex moan and try to beg for more.

    “Fuck,” he says. It’s going to be a long day.

 

* * *

 

 

Alex’s heart hammers in his chest as he breathes, “do you like it?”

    John seems speechless. He stares for a moment, then parts his lips and licks them a little. “Like it?” he echoes.

    Alex shifts on his feet, tugging at the bottom hem of the soft silk babydoll he’s wearing. It’s pastel pink. He wonders if the heat rising in his cheeks means he’s flushed pink to match. It seems so absurd, suddenly, to be standing in their breakfast nook, dressed like someone in a cheesy porn movie.

    “You dressed up for me.” John comes closer and puts his hands on Alex’s hips. He raises the bottom hem, just a little, just enough to brush his fingertips along the soft curve of his side. The touch is electric and Alex’s hips buck involuntarily and he makes a soft noise, half gasp, half moan, wanton and loose and heady.

    “Yeah,” he breathes, once his lungs are functioning again.

    John rakes his eyes down Alex’s body, one long, slow pass, and then lunges to suck a deep bruise into the side of his neck. It’s agonizing and Alex practically purrs, arching against John. He can feel the hard line of John’s cock straining against his fly. He can’t help but grind a little on it, and when John groans against his skin he answers with a soft whine.

    John’s fingers trail feather light over Alex’s skin, pausing when they reach the g-string. “You really went all out, didn’t you?” he asks. His lips are warm, too warm, against the bruise Alex knows is rising livid on his skin. It’s exquisitely painful, even just that hint of contact.

    He can’t bring himself to form words. Instead, he hums, “mmhm.”

    “I don’t even wanna take this off you, baby.” John palms Alex’s ass, squeezes, slips his fingers into the cleft and nudges the thin strip of fabric aside. “I just want to pull this to the side a little … get my cock in there - I want to fuck you like this, with all dressed up for me, baby girl.”

    “Then do it,” says Alex.

    John produces the panties Alex had snuck into his lunch bag early that morning. “You know how many times I came in these?” he asks.

    Alex swallows. “No.”

    “Three,” says John. “Would have been more, but I was doing it under my desk. Almost got caught once. Whose fault is that?”

    Alex whimpers.

    “Yours, baby girl,” says John. He drops the panties and grabs Alex’s cock to jerk, hard and fast, through the silk of the g-string. It doesn’t take long for Alex to get to the edge, pressing his face against John’s chest and begging for release.

    That’s when John lets go of Alex’s cock, fumbles his own out of his pants, and says, “lube.”

    Alex is prepared. He hands John the bottle and bends himself over the table. John wastes no time slicking up, pulling the g-string aside, and pushing the head of his cock into Alex’s ass.

    “You were ready, weren’t you, baby girl?” John asks, and he’s not wrong - Alex is sloppy and wet and open as he pushes in.

    “I spent all day with a plug in,” he breathes. “I wanted to be ready for you.”

    “I love it when you’re this wet for me, baby girl. You’re so good - feels like you’ve been fucking all day. It isn’t enough, though, is it? There’s no satisfying you. You just need cock all the time, don’t you?”

    “I need cock,” Alex agrees, “please, John, please, give me your cock, fill me up and come in me, just fuck me over and over until I can’t walk -”

    “I’m gonna fill you up, you be patient.” John fists his hand in Alex’s hair and fucks him deep, slowly speeding up until he’s snapping his hips sharp against Alex’s ass and yanking back on his hair. Alex groans a little with each thrust. The table is cool under his cheek and against his chest.

    There’s a gasp and a moan above him and then heat - and John shudders and collapses on him, and Alex whines and wriggles his hips.

    “Make me come,” he begs. “Make me come, please, make me come -”

    John’s hand thrusts into the g-string and rubs just at the head of Alex’s cock, with the foreskin pushed back. Alex isn’t sure whether or not to rut into that hand; the touch is agonizing, he’s far too sensitive, and before long he’s crying at the sensation.

    “You come like this or not at all,” John whispers.

    So he starts to fuck into John’s hand. He sobs as John works just the head of his cock and teases his slip with a finger tip, and before he even realizes what’s happening, his cum is spattering against John’s hand and the underside of the table.

    They breathe together for a while. Alex is sniffling, his nose running from the tears; John is sleepy and pliant, the way he always is after orgasm. For what feels like forever, neither of them speak. It’s enough just to snuggle bent over the table.

    John is the first to break the silence. He clears his throat, draws in a deep breath, and sighs before he speaks.

    And what he says is:

    “You’re the one who’s cleaning that up.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos get me through this very long work day. chat to me at [alexangery.tumblr.com](alexangery.tumblr.com)


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